


Time Flies

by Bigmurderenergy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Future Fic, I use the word time a lot, M/M, Past Relationships, Peter has some stuff to work through, as a concept and an idea, if you do like time, if you're not into that this is a miss, past trauma, this might just be the fic for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 20:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigmurderenergy/pseuds/Bigmurderenergy
Summary: Peter Parker has known Tony Stark since he was a teenager. In one moment their relationship is changed. Aint time a funny thing?





	Time Flies

**Author's Note:**

> I've aged Peter Parker up to 25 and Tony up to 57. This does belong in the MCU in my mind though, so I've kept the canonically accurate 32 year age gap between them. So this set 10 years from when Peter first became Spider-Man.

Thirty minutes. That’s how long it had been. Most people can walk a mile and a half in that time. Watch an episode of a sitcom. Cook something in an oven. It’s not that long but it’s enough to go through a transition.

Like Peter’s current example. Thirty minutes ago, he was sitting on a couch going through lines of code. Now? He’s swinging through the high rises of Manhattan. There’s always a reason to be in this situation. At this moment he was going to stop an altercation between the NYPD and a few goons who had held up an ATM vestibule downtown.

Peter had fought aliens, prevented a nuclear disaster once, and this seems like a low-key sort of scenario compared to most of his life. But he could help. So here he was. Swinging through time.

Maybe he should explain. Thirty minutes ago, Peter was running lines of code with Tony Stark. Billionaire, philanthropist, the genius who helped him create the suit that was both aerodynamic and practical enough to swing through the air at high speeds. Most people can walk a mile and a half in thirty minutes. Peter can get that far in seconds if he had enough physics behind him.

Thirty minutes ago, Peter was sitting on Tony Stark’s couch going through his code, helping with some functionality. Streamlining was the idea. Make things faster, smoother, like gliding through the skyscrapers of Manhattan instead of walking.

Twenty-seven minutes ago, Peter was lying on Tony Stark’s couch, Tony’s lips on his neck. Twenty-five minutes ago, Peter’s shirt was thrown on the floor. Twenty-three minutes ago, Peter’s tongue was in Tony Stark’s mouth.

Ain’t time a funny thing?

Fifteen minutes ago Peter’s police tracker had gone off loudly. It took a minute to notice. It took about two minutes to remove the rest of his clothes and suit up. Five minutes ago, Peter Parker jumped out the window of the Avengers tower and now he’s swinging towards danger. But maybe he was swinging away from it too.

OK, here’s the thing. Time is a current preoccupation with Peter at this moment. Because time is a concept, right? It doesn’t mean anything if you think about it too hard. It’s what we do in that time that defines us. Or rather defines what changes around us.

So, he’s thinking, hey have I just ruined a relationship I’ve had for a decade over a couple lines of code and a police alert? Hey, is that possible? Tony won’t mind. He even shooed Peter out. He’s retired, you see. He hung up the Iron Man suit a couple years ago, the mind is willing, but the body can’t take that much trauma any more. He’s three years off sixty years old. Perfectly acceptable time to stop throwing himself into danger.

Peter though? He’s still only twenty-five. So, swinging towards danger is still perfectly natural.

What’s not a natural reaction? Having Tony Stark critique his function setup on his scripting, and all it took was a second of eye contact. Peter only had to look and seconds later both their eyes were closed. Lips pressed together. Breathing steady, uncertain.

Here’s the thing, Peter had known Tony for a decade. They met when he was fifteen. That feels like a lifetime ago. For a lot of people, it might as well be. It’s a transition. From childhood to adulthood. In this time, Peter had gone from high school, to college, to a job at the Daily Bugle, to an internship at Oscorp, to an actual job at Stark Industries. And there he was, making out with the CEO, his mentor, his friend.

Originally, he figured it was a crush. That it would go away in time. You know this guy, this man, had walked into his life. Given him more than he could believe possible. A suit that wasn’t made from flannel and googles. A paying job. Friendship, camaraderie, purpose.

It was a crush. Seriously, that’s all it was, with admiration and appreciation coupled in there, it’s enough to be confusing, right?

So why had Tony kissed him back? He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was being polite. He seemed only slightly annoyed about the police scanner. But he helped Peter into his suit, even patted his back as he walked to the window. Even said “We’ll talk,” as Peter swooped away.

What the hell does that mean?

This was too much, Peter could still feel Tony’s beard against his lips as he swung through the air. He could feel phantom lips against his. It was probably just his mask trying to confuse him. As he swung his hips into another jump he could still feel Tony’s hands there. OK. This might be a problem.

It had been thirty-three minutes since he was sitting on the damn couch. He was closing in on the ATM vestibule.

Time is a concept. It’s a tool we use to understand something vast and complex into something quantifiable and more manageable. Peter knew this, but it didn’t make the idea of thirty-two years less strange. That’s a whole fully functioning person of time between him and Tony. OK, that’s strange, right? The age gap between himself and Tony is more mature than him right now.

Hell, this wasn’t even the first, second or third time Peter had been making out with someone and his police scanner buzzed to life, or an explosion could be heard in the distance by only him, a gunshot, someone screaming. So many reasons to stop making out with someone furiously. All of them very good reasons. And they all ended out for the best.

OK, so Peter is currently single, and MJ isn’t talking to him after the last time he walked out on her. Which is not great, and he really needed to fix that.

If only he had the time.

Maybe it’s just an excuse? Not to say Peter didn’t want to make up with MJ more than anything. But, OK so Peter’s life is pretty complicated right now. He has a full-time job, two full time jobs actually, and one pays better than the other. Not by much though.

Tony is a busy man too, this was the first time Peter had seen him in weeks. Maybe it was that? The longing, the time apart making the heart fonder. Hey, maybe it’s that they have a lot in common, have seen things not many other people can relate to. Maybe it’s that Tony makes him laugh. He was laughing before they started kissing. He was happy. Tony made him happy. Makes him happy.

MJ made Peter happy too. But he just couldn’t seem to do the same for her. It was unbalanced. He got the support, the love and affection. He just couldn’t return it because his priorities were elsewhere. It just didn’t work out. It wasn’t from lack of love, it was just too much of it.

Also, hey, it’s not like Peter wants to start a relationship with Tony Stark. That would be ridiculously dumb. It’s not like they’re in love or anything. It’s not like the years of experiencing death defying antics has made them closer than he thought possible. Tony had laid dying in Peter’s arms twice. Peter had laid dying in Tony’s arms three times. Not keeping score here, it’s just… When you’ve seen someone in that way, multiple times, it skews your perspective on how much they mean to you. OK, that sounds bad.

Peter thought he was going to lose Tony twice in his life. That’s too many times. It stays with you. The gasping, the cries, the utter helplessness. You’re about to lose one of the most important things in your life and you didn’t even get to say the words you were always meant to say but just never found the right time.

When is the right time? Probably not right now.

Peter stopped short on a rooftop staring down at the vestibule. The gang had made a barricade, the cops were against their cars. A stand-off. Fantastic. Negotiation never was Peter’s strong suit. And the cops would hate him even more if he took everything over. Probably best to ask.

He only got shot at twice. One bullet grazing his hip.

He’d call that a win. Apart from the having to fix his suit again. Another thing to eat into his time.

It took a day for Tony to call Peter. Twenty-one hours and seventeen minutes. Peter counted. Time is still a preoccupation. His hip is still sore from the bullet grazing him, it still burns from Tony’s fingers being there.

“Is this the right time?” Tony asked.

 


End file.
